In one of his books, J.B. Phillips, author of the popular translation of the New Testament that bears his name, quotes the American essayist David Grayson. Following a stay in hospital, Grayson reflected on the experience in a little book called Adventures in Solitude. Here's the quotation:
As I thought during those long days, it seemed to me that the hospital cherishes a spirit, or an attitude, that the Church sadly lacks. I felt in it a respect for the human body and for the human life beyond that in the Church, as it stands today, for the spirit of man.
The hospital diagnoses before it prescribes; the Church prescribes before it diagnoses. The physician stands humble before the human body, studies it, doubts about it, wonders at it; labors to fit his remedies to the exact disease. Is there in any church an equivalent humility in the presence of the spirit of man? Is the priest willing to inquire and doubt and wonder? Does he know before he tries to cure?
Obviously, Grayson wrote before the small matter of insurance had come to dominate health-care; and he'd clearly never seen an episode of House, where the tormented physician treats just about everyone like dirt. Nevertheless, it's easy to see what he means. Phillips writes that the phrase "the Church prescribes before it it diagnoses" haunts him. It haunts me, too. There is a world of difference between proclaiming the simple Gospel and spouting simplistic dogma. The witness of the Church is harmed by those who fail to listen, who are too ready to tell all and sundry exactly what is wrong without even the courtesy of allowing the other to speak.
Of course, in terms of the sickness unto death that afflicts us all, there can only be one prescription. Eternal death, the result of our rebellion, can only be countered by eternal life, the gift of God through the sacrifice of Christ, appropriated by faith. However, there are many ailments beyond that basic disease. There are different words for different conditions. Just bawling "Jesus saves" doesn't really help when the ailment looms large. A soul tortured by remorse needs a quite different approach than the blustering bully who must learn to bow before the majesty of God.
What do we learn? That the privilege of sharing Christ must be preceded by the building of relationship, and especially by a readiness to listen. And having listened we will be careful to seek God's guidance. There are many tools available in the Word, but they must be selected with care and used with skill. As Phillips says, "the souls of men are delicate and complex affairs and their spiritual needs are never going to be met by mass prescription."